Sunset Boulevard (36 page)

roommate, Alana Hoffman, sang a cappella all the time. Blair would wake up to Alana singing

"Son of a Preacher Man" to her collection of teddy bears. Avoiding her room, Blair spent a lot

of time in the library, where Pete was writing a paper for his Magical Realism in the Caribbean

class. They'd exchanged flirty glances, and finally Pete invited her for coffee.

It was amazing how
easy
everything could be with Pete. For the first time in Blair's nineteen

years, her life felt like it made sense. She loved her classes, had an adoring, handsome

boyfriend, and had even found a surrogate family in the Carlsons.

For the past few days, they'd spent every waking hour with the family: his former US senator

dad, Chappy; his Boston debutante mom, Jane; his three older brothers, their wives, and

assorted nephews and nieces Blair couldn't even try to keep straight. It sounded like a

nightmare, but it was great. His dad was barrel-chested and red-faced and told bad jokes in a

way that made everyone crack up, and his mom would randomly recite poetry at the dinner

table without being drunk. The brothers were friendly and smart, their wives were nice, and

even the kids were polite. So far, it had been a perfect holiday.

And it was about to get even better. To celebrate the New Year, Chappy had booked the entire

family at an exclusive resort in Costa Rica. Obviously, Blair could do without the rainforest

adventure part, but she'd heard the beaches were pristine, the sun was hot, and the villas had the

most incredible mattresses.

Just then, there was a knock at the door. "You kids decent?" Pete's brother Jason called as he

entered. He had the same lanky frame as Pete. Tall, blond, and handsome, all four of the

Carlson brothers--Everett, Randy, Jason and Pete--looked like they could be quadruplets, even

though there was a two-year age difference between them. A second-year law student at

UPenn, Jason was the second youngest of the Carlson brothers. He was adorable, and Blair

would've had a crush on him if she wasn't dating Pete.

At least she has a backup.

"We're playing charades. Your presence has been requested."

"Do we have to?" Blair suppressed a groan. It was cute in theory, but they'd played Charades,

Pictionary, or Scrabble the last three nights.

Maybe they should shake it up with some Truth or Dare.

"And guess who's requested you on his team again?" Jason smirked, flashing Blair the

trademark white-toothed Carlson smile. "Our dad loves you!"

"Aw, that's cute!" Blair said, mustering her enthusiasm. They'd be at the resort soon, so she

might as well continue being as polite and friendly as possible to his family. She followed Pete

through the wide, arching hallway that led to the kitchen. A large wood stove hunkered in the

corner opposite two massive Sub-Zero refrigerators. Several overstuffed yellow chairs sat in

front of a large dormer window, each one containing a different member of the family. Pete's

father Chappy stood in front of the group.

"Scout!" He called happily as he spotted Blair and Pete.

"Hi, Mr. Carlson." Blair smiled warmly.

"I already claimed you, so back off, boys," Chappy said jovially to Pete's brothers, who all

smiled politely back at her. "I'm telling you, Scout, I don't know how I'm going to manage

without you next week," Chappy continued.

"Oh, well, I'm sure we can play on the beach or something," Blair said. She blushed. "Play

charades on the beach," she clarified.

"Yeah, but what'll I do without my favorite teammate?" Chappy shook his head sorrowfully.

"No offense, Jane." He cupped his hand over Blair's ear. "My wife cheats," he whispered,

winking at his wife. Jane Carlson had wheat-blond hair cut in a sensible bob and was tall, with

an athletic frame. Only the deep wrinkles in her forehead made her seem old enough to be

Pete's mom, and they didn't make her look ancient so much as friendly.

"I do cheat, I'll be the first to admit it," Jane said merrily. "I'm glad you're on the straight and

narrow." She winked at Blair.

But Blair was still stuck on the part of Chappy's sentence that implied she
wouldn't
be in Costa

Rica with them. She'd bought five new Eres bikinis for the occasion. They made the most of

the five pounds she'd gained from Yale's meal plan. "
Without me?
" Blair repeated stupidly.

"I mean, I'd bring you along, but we've got a saying in the Carlson family..." Chappy began,

his eyes shining, as if he were about to deliver a stump speech. "I believe, when it comes to

vacations, in the
no ring, no bring
rule."

"It's the Carlson curse." Jason sighed, elbowing Blair in the ribs sympathetically. Blair stepped

away. While it was true she'd never
officially
been invited to Costa Rica, she'd been invited for

Christmas, for God's sake. Wasn't that even more exclusive than a beach holiday? And why
not

invite her? After all, she'd brought Nate Archibald, her high school boyfriend, on her family

vacations for years and it wasn't like she'd been married to him.

Except in her dreams.

"Blair, we love you and we want you in our family for years to come, but I need to be a stickler

on this," Chappy explained sympathetically, as if she were one of his constituents, arguing over

some impossible and arcane rule. "I've raised four boys, and while they've behaved around

you, honestly, these gentlemen cause more theatrics when it comes to ladies than the Yale

School of Drama," he finished.

"Maybe you could get together with your girlfriends and have a girl's adventure!" Pete's sisterin-law Sarah piped up from the corner of the room, stroking her eight-months-pregnant belly.

"I remember when I heard the Carlson rule, I had a great time with the Theta girls. We went to

Cancún!" A look of happy reminiscence crossed Sarah's heart-shaped face.

"You did?" Randy asked, shooting a look at Sarah. "I didn't know that."

"All I'm saying is that Blair should have her own fun." Sarah winked conspiratorially at Blair.

"More hot chocolate, anyone?" Pete's mother asked, excusing herself.

"Sorry, son!" Chappy said, genuinely sounding remorseful as he clapped Pete on the back.

"Sorry, Scout!"

Blair narrowed her eyes at a painting that hung over the fireplace, of a ship in what looked like

an exceptionally violent storm. What type of fucking art was that to hang in a house? And what

the fuck was up with that stupid nickname? Scout?

Out
would have been more appropriate.

"Blair, I'm sorry," Pete said simply. "I thought you understood..."

"What? I knew I wasn't coming," Blair lied, smiling fakely. Her stomach was churning wildly.

For a brief second, she wanted to excuse herself, run to the second-floor bathroom, and puke

everything she'd eaten for the past five days. But she didn't.

"Blair, darling, here's your hot chocolate. I made sure to put some extra marshmallows in

there." Jane pushed the steaming mug into Blair's hands. "Won't you sit down?" She gestured

to one of the comfortable overstuffed chairs.

"Thanks," Blair said. She squared her shoulders and turned to the waiting Carlson clan. "You

all ready to play?" She forced herself to smile, a plan already forming.

"Maybe I
will
have a wild girls' weekend," she whispered to Pete. "I haven't been to New York

all year." His face fell as he no doubt pictured all the fun she'd be having without him. Blair

raised an eyebrow challengingly. After all, she was a woman. A Yale woman. She had places

to go.

And games to play.

make new friends, but keep the old...

"This came from the man at the other end of the bar," the skinny bartender slash model said as

he proffered a glass of champagne.

"Thanks." Serena van der Woodsen glanced down the long, dark oak bar of Saucebox, the new

lounge in the just-opened hotel on Thompson Street. Breckin O'Dell, an actor she vaguely

remembered meeting a few times, held up his own glass of champagne and saluted her. Serena

nodded, brought the glass to her lips and took a sip, even though she preferred vodka.

"Oh my God, you should totally date him. His agent has ridiculous connections," Amanda

Atkins said, pulling on the sleeve of Serena's The Row scoopneck jersey dress in excitement.

"Can we get some shots down here?" she called to the bartender. Serena smiled indulgently.

Amanda was an eighteen-year-old recent LA transplant best known for her role in a dorky

sitcom about a girl from Paris who moves to a farm in Tennessee to live with her redneck

uncle. Recently, though, she'd been cast in an indie film and was trying to break free from her

good girl reputation.

Another shot and she's almost there.

"Maybe," Serena said unconvincingly. She stared at the bubbles fizzing to the top of her glass

as if they held the secrets to the universe. If she looked around her, she'd see tons of Breckin

O'Dell look-alikes, no doubt wishing
they'd
been the ones to buy Serena van der Woodsen--
the

Serena van der Woodsen--a drink. Instead, they buzzed around Amanda and her other two

actress-friends, Alysia and Alison. They called themselves the three A's, even though Alysia's

name was actually Jennifer.

The three A's were admittedly a little shallow, but they were also goofy and fun and never

turned down a party. Usually, Serena had a blast hanging out with them, but tonight, she felt a

little... off. Her parents had just left for St. Barts, while her brother, Eric, was spending the

winter break in Australia with a girl who'd been a visiting student at Brown last year. It wasn't

like she wanted to spend New Year's Eve with her family, but she also didn't like waking up in

their huge Fifth Avenue apartment alone. Serena downed her champagne in one gulp, telling

herself that she just needed to have fun.

And, after all, she is the expert.

"Hey, you're that farm chick!" one guy stuttered, not looking Amanda in the eye. His hair was

gelled and he was wearing a pink and white striped button-down. It was clear that he'd had to

bribe the bouncer to get into the bar.

"Yes," Amanda sighed. "But, actually, I have to stand over here now." Amanda took two steps

away, as Alysia and Alison snorted in laughter. Serena offered the guy a sympathetic smile.

Even though she was beautiful, Serena was never mean.

An infuriating combination.

"God, you'd think Knowledge would know to not to let guys like that in. Did you see his hair?

It was, like, sprayed on." Amanda flipped her extensions over her shoulder as she named the

beefy bouncer whose job was to keep Saucebox as exclusive as possible, even though, to

Serena, it felt exactly the same as every other bar she'd been to recently.

"Serena?"

Serena whirled around, ready to have another one of those
so great to see you
conversations

with someone she'd probably met once. Instead, she saw a familiar, smiling face that

immediately took her back in time.

"Oh my God, Iz!" Serena squealed excitedly. She slid off the smooth bar stool and threw her

arms around Isabel Coates, a fellow Constance Billard alum who'd gone to Rollins College

down in Florida. She was super tan and had highlights in her shoulder-length blond hair. She

automatically looked over Isabel's shoulder, sure she'd see Kati Farkas, Isabel's best friend and

constant sidekick. Isabel and Kati had done everything together back in high school. Kati even